As a child, I felt a part of me wither each day I was confined to the prison-like environment of school. The pace of instruction crawled for my active mind, the topics barely scratched the surface of my insatiable curiosity. My teachers, though well-meaning, were oblivious to my nature — a nature so rare today they’d be instructed to see every pathology in it. I wasn’t lost as they thought; What I was experiencing was drowning in over stimulation visually and auditorily and under stimulation creatively and intellectually. The library’s endless supply of books that I read under my desk, was my lifeline.
Fairy tales, myths, and stories of child heroes were my sanctuary. I saw myself in the pages of Newbery Award-winning books, feeling the call to a purpose greater than myself. These stories were beacons, guiding children to embrace their full intelligence, sensitivity, and neurodiversity in a world where adults had long since been conditioned out of theirs.
Then came Disney’s “Cinderella,” viewed in a dollar theater during a summer special. Having read numerous versions of the tale, I was eager to see it brought to life. Instead, I was left with a void. Disney had taken a story of resilience, fortitude, and giftedness and reduced it to a bland, crust less white bread. Gone was the rich tapestry of human cognition, replaced by a vision of traditional wife hood — personality discarded.
This sanitization made me question why Disney chose certain stories and how they adapted them. The answer, I believe, lies in the one of the story they’ve avoided: “The Princess and the Pea.” This tale, with its celebration of extraordinary sensitivity, represents a unique way of experiencing the world — too stark in its validation of difference to be easily diluted. This isn’t a mere oversight, but a telling omission that speaks volumes about society’s struggle to truly value cognitive diversity and high sensitivity.
At its core, “The Princess and the Pea” is a celebration of extraordinary perception — both somatic and cognitive. The princess’s ability to feel a tiny pea through layers of mattresses isn’t just a quaint quirk or a simple test of royalty. It’s a powerful metaphor for heightened sensory processing and acute awareness, traits often associated with twice-exceptionality and high sensitivity. This tale validates a type of intelligence that our current world often overlooks or even devalues.
Why has Disney shied away from this story? Perhaps because it would require them to give the princess a real, complex personality beyond the typical Disney mold. They would need to explain the true purpose of the pea test — not as a frivolous examination of delicacy, but as an assessment of high somatic giftedness. In the original tale, the princess’s sensitivity isn’t a flaw to be overcome or a cute eccentricity — it’s the very quality that proves her worth and potential value to the kingdom.
This narrative doesn’t align with Disney’s or any of our media’s tendency to simplify characters and story lines. The Princess and the Pea presents a character whose very essence is her divergence from the norm, her ability to perceive what others cannot. In a world that pathologizes sensitivity, somatic intelligence and sensory differences, this story stands as a radical affirmation of neurodivergent experiences and their importance.
Adapting this tale would require Disney to delve into why such sensitivity was valued in royal lineages. It would mean exploring how heightened perception — the ability to notice subtle details, to be aware of undercurrents that others miss — could be crucial in matters of diplomacy, strategy, and leadership. This princess isn’t valuable despite her sensitivity, but because of it.
In avoiding “The Princess and the Pea,” Disney reveals its limitations in portraying the full spectrum of human cognitive diversity. It shows a reluctance to engage with narratives that truly celebrate neurodiversity, that place value on experiences and perceptions outside the societal norm. By leaving this tale untouched, Disney inadvertently preserves it as a beacon of neurodivergent representation in its original, unvarnished form — a reminder of the rich, complex characters that populate our oldest stories, before they were flattened and sanitized for mass consumption.
This story reminds us of a time when sensitivity and heightened perception were recognized as valuable traits, particularly in leaders. In our modern world, where such qualities are often dismissed or devalued, “The Princess and the Pea” stands as a testament to the importance of cognitive diversity. It challenges us to reconsider what we value in individuals and in society, urging us to recognize the potential in those who experience the world more intensely, who feel the metaphorical ‘peas’ that others might miss.
Throughout folklore, we see this pattern of neurodivergent thinking celebrated. Jack’s trade of a cow for beans exemplifies divergent thinking. Rumpelstiltskin’s straw-to-gold alchemy metaphorically represents the transformative power of neurodivergent creativity. The Little Mermaid’s fascination with the human world mirrors the intense interests and feeling of being an outsider often found in neurodivergent individuals.
Historically, these tales were testaments to the value of different perspectives. But as society shifted towards standardization, particularly in the mid-20th century, both neurodiversity and the creativity it engenders faced increasing marginalization. Disney’s and others flattening of these rich, nuanced characters parallels society’s attempt to fit neurodivergent individuals into neurotypical molds.
Yet, it’s precisely these ‘rough edges’ — the unusual associations, the intense focus, the unique sensory experiences — that form the basis of creativity. From Leonardo da Vinci’s obsessive focus to Emily Dickinson’s unique worldview, history’s most celebrated creators often displayed traits associated with neurodivergence.
As we face complex modern challenges, from climate change to social inequality, we need this creativity more than ever. Solutions won’t come from conventional thinking but from those who can see beyond the obvious, who can make connections others miss.
By recognizing and nurturing neurodiversity, we cultivate a fertile ground for creativity. When we allow individuals to embrace their unique cognitive styles rather than forcing conformity, we open doors to unimaginable innovation.
Let’s reclaim these narratives and the neurodivergent creativity they celebrate. Let’s create a world where the princess’s sensitivity is valued not just as a mark of royalty but as a wellspring of new ideas. Where Jack’s unconventional choices are seen not as foolishness but as the kind of divergent thinking that leads to innovation.
In doing so, we don’t just honor neurodiversity or unleash creativity — we equip ourselves with the cognitive tools necessary to write the next chapter of our collective story. In the face of unprecedented challenges, it’s the neurodivergent creativity that will light our way forward.
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